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The Taste of Copper

Though it was not a frequent habit of mine
I rifled through my pockets,
And found several pennies.
I released them into the water
Of a fountain, with a significance greater
Than their monetary value.
Your pockets
Were already filled with change that danced
And shook when you walked
So you found you did not need to collect
The wealth of the water.
And when your coins tarnished
And spilled onto the pavement
Lost among the curb
You returned to the fountain
Not to invest, but to collect what remained.
I had no more pennies left to give you.
But it did not help that I turned my pockets inside out anyway.




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TraceNothingComplexThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Dec. 4, 2012 at 8:10 pm:
I think I can safely say I haven't read a poem with this concept before. It has a very unique air about it, and if you couple that with the simplistic, yet beautiful, way the words are weaved together, you have a great piece. Nice job.
 
rachkait This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Dec. 7, 2012 at 8:14 pm :
Thank you for your kind words! I'm glad you enjoyed it!
 
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